In fevered dreams & visions, my soul's madness
Is juxtaposed with the purely functional.
On plagued, wintry streets in the skeletal dawn
There's only the flicker of grave neon signs.
The flowers turn to ash in acedia's dark fields.
Machine consciousness creates cold steel empires.
Incessant noise pollutes the pools of silence.
The warm heart of the universe has frozen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem